American Resolution
by Szeth
Summary: He didn't know what to do, or who had caused this, or even knew why. All he knew was that he was hurting. A sensation of burning underneath his skin, scalding hot and boiling just under the surface... Someone had lit a match. Written for the remembrance of 9/11.


**I'm not so sure how this turned out. At all. My beta, Haley, says that it's fine and I can submit it confidently... I just think it needs_ more_, ya know?**

**Title: American Resolution  
Started Typing: 8-14-12.  
Finished Typing: 8-18-12  
Music Used:_ Rise Against- Midnight Hands, Metallica- Enter Sandman, In This Moment- Blood, Black Light Burns- Coward, Janus- In Flames, The Hives- Tick Tick Boom, Black Light Burns- Stop A Bullet._**

* * *

He didn't know what to do, or who had caused this, or even knew why. All he knew was that he _hurt. _A sensation of burning underneath his skin, scalding hot and boiling just under the surface... Someone had lit a match. All he wanted was for it to_ stop_— and the buring grew to a new level— twisting and clawing at his skin and _stinging_. He didn't give the others a thought, it just burnt so much— he pulled his shirt off, fingers shaking and body convulsing, he couldn't make a sound pour from his lips, or he would have been screaming.

He felt his body centered in an inferno, burning and twsting and thrashing. His hand came down on his ribs as he fell from his chair— eyes tearing and fingers desperately clutching at the wreckage of firey skin— peeling off the outer layers fiercely in horror, anything to make it stop...

Russia had been the first to react; racing over to America in a few paces, watching as the other country grasped at himself in terror. Ivan pulled a hand away from the melting skin and held it— and America finally screamed— no words, just _screamed._ Withering at Russia's grip with limbs twisting violently, America collapsed further onto the floor, crying and screaming, swirling in wild uncontrollable movements.

Russia tipped America onto his back, struggling to keep the nation under control, and all the while all America could feel was the _stinging. _The _melting. _He cried— desperatly crying and whispering pain founded nothingings— but most of all, he was screaming for it _stop. _Russia watched, feeling pity and concern swell deep in his chest at the sight. He didn't know what was happening— and he didn't know who was causing this— but he knew there was nothing he could do...but _watch_. Watch and hold America till the burning had all but ceased and just try to get America _through this. _And it hurt. It hurt to think of America—who was normally so energentic and shining and hopeful and s_parkling_, and was now screaming in pain, bright sea eyes filmed over in anguish and _fear._

America felt his stomach churn as he coughed vigorously. All he could see was gray— grey and black mixed with the smallest hints of red embers— and he just couldn't _breathe. _He needed air; fresh clean air, something that didn't smell like _smoke _and _ashes. _Something that didn't smell like _death _and _burning bodies._

One hand was still trapped in Russia's— not that America knew at this time— but he reached his other hand near his neck, fingers grabbing and nearly clawing at his throat, trying to breathe, trying to reach the oxygen. It hurt to swallow— his throat raw and so ironically burning as well. Everything was burning. America screamed out into the air, looking and searching and praying that his lungs could stop bursting, as if trying to disintegrate itself out of his chest.

Something resonated deep within him, somewhere in his core. Snapping and tripping. He could hear them crying— hear them screaming— hear the white noise. Camera flashes, sharp intakes of light and sound, shifting winds and the mingling of flames. And god— it _hurt so much._ He didn't know what to do. His entire mind drew a blank. America desperately tried to make his mind work. To force himself to understand. Only one sentence was rung out and seen from inside the smoke and debris. He was attacked on _his own soil. _Why? _Why? _He didn't have time to think. Another wave of pain crashed over him, itching at his already damaged skin, irritating the twisted the scorching burn marks. It was followed by an eletric pulse through his bones, jerking him more than he already was, flinging him upright into Russia's arms, his breathing labored and eyes unseeing.

What now? What had happened? His body stung all over, legs and arms twitching vigriously, hands gripping at Russia's scarf, his head shaking, chest heaving. His eyes watering— either from the pain or from the smoke effect— he was taking uneven breaths. Still trying to reach the air, and no matter how much he obtained, his lungs continued to burn. His eyes continued to burn. _His body continued to burn. _Another scream percied the air before America lost all recognition of time, place, or substance.

.

.

And hours later, when America found out why this all happened, why his body was tortured in such a way...There was a different burning. A farmiliar yet new sensation building up in his chest and veins. Retalitation. Vegneance. _Justice._

.

.

.

_"Freedom itself was attacked this morning by a faceless coward, and freedom will be defended." _— George W. Bush.

"_The free American people will not be intimidated. Our resolve has not been weakened nor will we be defeated." _— Senate Majority Leader Tom Daschle

_"And justice will be done." _— George W. Bush.

Notes:

-Within hours of the attacks on New York and Washington, Russian President Vladimir Putin was on the phone to George W. Bush - the first international leader to call the U.S. president on September 11. "Russia knows directly what terrorism means," Putin said later in a televised address. "And because of this we, more than anyone, understand the feelings of the American people. In the name of Russia, I want to say to the American people - we are with you." _(So this would explain why I made Russia the one to first come over and help America. And despite my hardcore addiction to RusAme, this wasn't exactly purposeful slash... moderately anyway. If you have your slash goggles on, well then have at it!)_

-I had hoped that people could have figured, but better safe than sorry. The reactions America is having is part APH imagination and half real life incidents. Obviuously, the plane crash was engulfed in flames. Duh. Burning. Then of course fire causes smoke and ashes, which of course everyone knew happened greatly on 9-11. And, America's stomach churning, well, we all know how it feels to be high up. Think of a rollercoaster. You can feel you stomach doing all these flips and turns right? Imagine jumping from a firey building knowing your going to die. Yeah. It's bound to make anyone a little sick. So I decided to make that another side effect.

-For the first few hours during and after the crashes, many people had no clue who had attacked the country and why The World Trade Center was basically a trip to hell. After George W. Bush's speach, the aggressors came into view.


End file.
